Author's Note: Since the 100th episode of AHS aired and another Asylum easter egg popped up when Margaret mentioned about Briarcliff Manor as haunting place, besides Camp Redwood, subsequently it's high time to drop a glimpse at my theory which is the possible connection between Jude and Margaret Booth, in spite of they don't share the same last names. First and foremost, I think Margaret is something like Jude's forgotten daughter and she had it with Casey like in her 30s or 40s, however, Casey doesn't want Margaret to be part of their family and one day he conveyed her either in an orphanage or foster family on his own. Second, they're both immensely pious and no wonder why they were dedicated to the faith just after Jude's car accident in a late night after being heartbroken again and almost murdering a little girl, besides Margaret believed in God and prayed which were the solution to the 1970's massacre that she's the one who was crucially involved as a murderer, unstitching her preys' ears and falsely accusing Mr. Jingles (aka Benjamin). Last but not least, let's not forget they're both blondes and they're leaders in charge though shortly afterwards they aren't in charge any longer. 

If you are wondering what's my opinion on Margaret Booth, I'm having mixed feelings about her, howsoever, she's the only Leslie's character that doesn't gives me a pure headache! I like her for being an antagonist and how much different she appears to be, compared to the goofily bland Coco and Meadow, however, I dislike what she did to Brooke and Benjamin (aka Mr. Jingles) even Trevor. 

I hope you like and enjoy this one-shot! :))

Trigger Warning for 💉Violence & Strong Language 💉

--- *** ---

--- 13th of April, 1942 ---

What on earth was going on back in the early forties when everything was perfectly normal or rather harmonizing smoothly, sweetly in Judy's life just two years after dating formally Casey Goodman?

Their sex life has been passionately actve for more than a half a year and optimistically looking forward for the most vibrant, most mirthful and realistically optimistic future they'd ever share as a couple with their unborn child.

Casey and Judy knew one another since their high school's graduation when it was Judy's toughest episode of her life of all time. Just months before turning nineteen, she lost the dearest family member whom she's being rearing with from her fresh birth up to her young adulthood, blooming into a young adult individual with her own discrete and emphatic decisions, battered to her philosophy and one of a kind worldview. Her mother Hazel. Furthermore, the financial bind of granting the sufficient quantity of cash for her high school graduation was also unnerving her and opting to veil her with sheerly thick veil of darkness, casted on her and persistently obscuring any glimpse of light illuminating any ounce of hers. Even though her boyfriend was slightly older than her with a couple of months, his genius idea of celebrating on their own the graduation, deposited in a moonlight picnic and a fresh walk in a desolated park.

Notwithstanding the circumstances of scarcely plotting their wedlock, anyway that didn't cease their brilliant chances of dating one another and continuing smoothly their romantic relationship with children's plan and galore of further plans, involving their future.

The uneasiness of bouncing her crossed youthfully leaned, sculptured in a swan curve leg while seating alongside her boyfriend in the doctor's office, in fact, they had an arranged appointment with Dr. Moore in the wee hours of the morning due to Jude's anxiety to discover what the common symptoms of drastic weight gain, heinous morning sicknesses, mood swings and nauseation clinging to her tiny, flexible nostrils were emanating. Even the young man was murderously anxious about his girlfriend's condition and his luxurious predictions of her occurred pregnancy were binding his mind even lacing his tongue and itching his tongue tip to pour the syllables and vowels, constructing the exact utterance and raise the topic with the Bostonian.

The early morning's celestially golden sun spellbinded vibrant saturation through the widely opened window-binds clad, beautifully beaming at the agitated couple who couldn't even rest for a single second and sort out a single cell from their hurricane of thoughts. The spring was already looting everything from the cold winter climate which enforced them to be equipped with warmer, thicker armor-clad attires and frosty coldness clinging stoutly to their weight.

"Well, Ms. Martin, what is actually bothering you in first place?" The velvety undertone, accentuating Ohion was chanting ballad's tunes, jingling into her petite, vulnerable ears even though it didn't cease her incessant choir of bouncing crossed leg, reassuring smile slitted across his pale-pinkish, thin lips.

"For three straight months, I'm down with mood swings as every pet peeve is making me quite nervous and I wake up every morning to go throw up in the bathroom," The salty lump laced with its saltiness her inner organs and seething fiercely her feminine Adam's apple until she maneuvered her throat muscles to swig the salty tiny bump, her trembling petite, creamily alabaster hands rested on her meager visible bump that carried the fresh life which was growing inside her through the first trimester of her pregnancy. The heavy exhale left her brittle lungs and glancing back at her lover with a vague prissy smile, tugging the corners of her mouth. "I'm constantly hungry even more than a typical adolescent would yearn to consume right away."

"Miss Martin!" In the meantime, the senior doctor's snap caught off guard the young lady, his fingertips futilely, humdrum drumming in a choir against the oak wood bureau, squinting up his apple green cabochons, piercing through her hazelish-brown gemstones with a soothingly calm smile which rendered his visitor even more antsy.

"No, no, doctor! Of course, there's something wrong with me! And that's why I'm here." Suddenly the blonde gentleman draped a muscly, strong arm around her middle, attempting to consolingly compose her, his pale-pinkish, softly satin lips scarcely, but delicately brushing her earlobe, shushing consoling babbles and sweet nothings to his one of a kind lover. "Seeking yar professional help and advice how to deal with those symptoms of my sickness."

"Miss Martin, that's not a sickness! It's a God blessing!"

"God blessing?" Even when the headstrong side illuminated the Bostonian, her white-knuckled calloused hands silkily softened, dropping them in defeat on her hips and her digits combing gently, nervously her cashmere navy blue mini skirt, fingering softly the fabric, barely wrenching widely her hazelish-brown gemstones, still fixated on the older gentleman.

"Just calm down, Miss Martin! And we have fantastic news about the symptoms you've just mentioned." Pausing before managing to gruffily clear his throat with a dry cough, pulsating into his bulky figure, he lingered his apple green cabochons on the recent visitors, having no intentions of daubing his smile presentably. "Those symptoms are the actual signs of your pregnancy."

"D-Does that mean I'm pregnant?" Even though they used for their first time condoms to secure themselves from unwanted pregnancy and carnal infections, at the moment Jude was beyond caught off guard and every syllable and vowel quivered on her tongue tip, almost dying in a desert's whisper, unheard by anyone else. The most fantastic thing she'd covet was acknowledging her own pregnancy even pleasing her boyfriend with the brilliance in the good news and welcoming a family member after advancing through the three trimesters. Reconsidering what Dr. Moore has mentioned about the emanation of the spontaneously hideous symptoms foreshadowing the sequence of the phenomenally breathtaking moment, opening a new chapter in her life as a future mother and parent of her creation that was still living in her womb, made of her and her boyfriend's flesh and blood. "What are ya saying?"

"Congratulations, Miss, you're pregnant!" The haphazardity in the elation's saturation grained the both future parents' youthful facial attributes immediately, vibrantly contrasting the daylight shadows which have obscured quantity of saturation to carpet their facial skin.

Sheer, childlike elation wrenched widened the duo's eyelids, reconsidering and assimilating every ounce of candor in the good news which Casey kept repeating to his girlfriend even though her disbelief.

Little did the blonde know how prodigiously lucky she's to have such supportive boyfriend of hers and most of all, welcoming their little sweet ray of sunshine within a half a year only. Galore of consperative theories how their little cherub angel would resemble even what's his emphatic sex was up to Judy and Casey's creativity and elaborating the gearing thoughts with their rich imagination, depicting consciously and mindly the vista of their creation were submerging their minds and barely daring to dwell out of their cloud nine's realm.

"T-That's too real to be a dream."

"You aren't dreaming, sweetie!" All of a sudden, even when the Bostonian was scintillatingly stunned, scarcely moving a single muscle or flexing her facial muscles even with a timid motion, meanwhile, the juvenile gentleman's berry-coloured, silken lips still sponged her earlobe with a a mild saliva, moistening his lower lip and subsequently pressing a peck on her well-defined, chubby cheek squarely. "We are going to be parents whether of a beautiful girl, being a mini Judy or a mini me as a boy."

--- *** ---

--- Six Months Later or So ---

--- 13th of October, 1942 ---

Six more months which were indeed calculated in two more fatiguing trimesters, or rather sandstorm of series of mood swings, severe weight gain, morning sicknesses and food cravings with insane quantity of consumed and pouched food were endured successfully with immense prudence and patience, worth the juvenile pairing's time.

Even though Casey wasn't getting along with his family except with his older brother Matthew Harrison, he's the only one who pearly dared to flee his night shift slightly earlier with a few hours, in fact, he pearly cherished his platonic relationship with each future parent and most of all, candidly loving Jude as his own younger sister. Furthermore, the car washer hasn't spoken to his parents for a handful of years, due to their heated debates and discords, involving their common discussions. Last but not least, Matthew was accompanying his younger sibling with two doctors who were currently in charge to take care of the young lady in labour. The first doctor was supervising the ultrasound monitor, whereas his colleague was aiding the young woman in labour.

It was already two o'clock in the morning in the mid-October's yet thickly dark cloak, cloaking the starless sky and the softly, gingerly dancing in tandem waltz autumn zephyr, whistling and bristling the sensitive exposed fleshes to join in the autumn breeze's dance.

The ongoing functioning of the grand façade that yet accepted galore of patients exceedingly from young children up to seniors who were struggling with variety of illnesses especially physical, agonizing each ounce of their flexing and constricting bone-clad muscles was even a precise residence for future mothers in labour and ensuring the sufficient coziness and comfort to deliver their baby right on time even in better conditions than the domestic.

"Waaahhhh!" The initial ever elating, soprano blubbers, pitching the patient's room in the hospital in the very wee hours of the morning churned the trio's hearts, skipping a beat in their ribcages as soon as the second doctor scooped in a warm, secure embrace the newborn baby, swaddled in a conveniently cozy, warm cloth to secure its lower body while haphazardly stretching its roseate powdered, pudgy arms in the thin air.

The sole thing which the juvenile lady could do was flumping on her conveniently cotton pillow, supporting her head after stilling her widely spread legs like a grand book's spread pages for hours and presenting her slit's birth process of the unborn infant's progress by dwelling out of his mother's womb after clinging to her once bulky bump's armor. Meantime, her vaginal muscles, inner thighs and swan-curved, slender calves were sorely shrouding in severe pain after excessively constricting and maneuvering them to work on sliding the newborn from her temporal nine-month-old home, consequently emerging perfectly healthy and safe and sound in the crudely cold world. Crudely cold world which was becoming a survival site for her, regardless her frail age.

"You did a great job, Judy!" In the interim, the gasman manipulated his mammoth, veiny hand to squeeze the Bostonian's frequently quivering in choir marbled, elvish hand to provide her warmness and comfort due to the invicinbily complacent achievement of giving a birth to the infant after spending a couple of hours in the facility with the hideiously pressurable pushes, constricting her petite-frame in general. "I and my brother are tremendously," In the meantime, the dark-haired gentleman ventured to manipulate his solely free hand's digits to brush a fistful of shaggy, greasy aureate curly tresses out of her generously perspiratory-mask clad complexion, bending down to link his lapis lazuli brutally honest, wryly balmy bijous while Matthew's younger sibling was peppering his lover's heaty, roseately powdered cheeks with tender kisses. "Tremendously proud of you for this God Blessing!"

"It's a girl, Miss Martin! Congratulations!" Shortly after the doctor rocked the playing on loop soundtrack of newborn's high-pitched blubbers, consequently she handed it to the younger lady, who dangled her alabasterly satin, maternally secure arms and bouncing and rocking up her little cherub angel to obscure modicum of her uncontrollable whines.

"A girl?"

"Mhm!"

"Aww, look at ya, my little beautiful princess!" When the nameless baby girl rested swaddled in her creator's irresistibly warm hug, the Bostonian has never thought twice of releasing her little sweet ray of sunshine from her own claws and cherishing each second and moment, spent with her nameless baby girl, examining in a scrutiny from head to toes her magnificently outstanding facial attributes. Crystalline translucent tears rimmed her honey brown cabochons, stifling series of sobs after plucking swiftly her lower plumpish lip between her front ivory teeth to scrap the raw spot. "Welcome to our small family addition, sweetheart!" Suddenly the nameless newborn's whines ceased to pitch the sufficiently expansive hospital room, while Casey managed his plump, baby-pinkish lips to buzz a lulling shush to soothe the infant.

"Our beautiful miracle!"

"Our little gorgeous princess, honey! Indeed!"

"She's going to be as beautiful as her own mother." Matthew's wet, strawberry-coloured tongue elaborated the syllables and vowels even forging the kind words even though he's beyond dazzled by his younger brother and his girlfriend's one of a kind angel for her gracefully curly-textured sparse gild hair, capping her silkenly soft baby head, pairing with her big round hazelish-brown gems and photogenically plumpish, baby-pinkish lips. Moreover, the nameless female's skin tone was chalky glossy even tough the rough-grained primrose powder, pricking her epidermis.

At the moment, the hospital room was hushed in a lethal silence, succumbed in the ultrasound monitor's buzzing and Casey's chanting magnificently sweet lulls, while Judy was still cradling and swaying warily their cherub angel pearly, effortlessly.

Even though the both young parents acknowledged their creation's gender just a few months ago after paying a third visit to the doctor to leak them with an ultrasound test perfomed on the blonde that the higher chances of expecting a baby girl were truthfully parallel what they're exactly anticipating eagerly.

Notwithstanding the circumstances, they're planning through the advancing weeks and months shortly after they kept in mind they're anticipating a young girl galore of female names which will ideally suit her. Even though they jotted down on a separate sheet of paper the rich ideas of names for baby girls, their invincible indisposition was succumbing their hurricane of thoughts after indicating the selection of two top favorite names for a female.

"How we're going to name this cupcake?"

"I was thinking of," In the interim, the young woman's naturally mauve, cherub lips parted in a content, vibrant smile, flexing her delicate jaw line while glancing back at the both gentlemen, her heart rate rapidly rabid increased and heart pulsations thudding into her petite, sensitive ears, managing to linger her maneuvered arms to rock the nameless youngster, elaborating a mirthful, girlish giggle, indicating her pure euphoria of her and her boyfriend's God blessing. "Anabelle Snow?" All of a sudden, the blond gentleman shook his head in solemn disapproval, silently positioning his own response. "What are yar thoughts on that name?"

"I was rather thinking Margaret."

"Margaret!" Then series of nods in solemn agreement affirmed the first name they're going to name their little sweet ray of sunshine at last while the juvenile mother curved her mouth in a soft O, baring her teeth in a content grin and shifting instantly her attention to her angel. "Margaret Martin Goodman! Be blessed my little angel."

--- *** ---

--- 2 Years or So ---

--- 26th of October, 1944 ---

Two years of sheer, precious rhapsodies for the both unwed parents and advancing their dynamic roller coaster from feeding Margaret with pure breastmilk, changing a few times daily her diapers and bathing her before bedtime even lulling her to drift off asleep eventually were miraculously the best years they're hopelessly overwhelmed to call themselves parents and almost every dollar being spent on Margaret's comfort and baby supplies.

In spite of there was no other family member who was keeping in touch with the Bostonian, in order to encounter the two-year-old youngster, Matthew was the only inner circle face that was paying a visit to the compact family's small flat once a week and relishing to spend modicum of his leisure time with the little cherub angel. What it monstrously, sinisterly saddened even before Judy's initial encounter with Margaret and propitiously welcoming her in the crudely cold, extensive world was reminiscing her own mother's words before losing her forever physically at last. The sinisterly haunting memories, yet reminiscing and submerging her patchy flimsy heart were how much Hazel covet to have at least one grandchild as her own heir to make her happy even braving her embroidered shiningly radiant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and contemplate the imprintable tracks of her daughter and lover's attributes, scarring their creation's physique. Further, the juvenile mother craved her deceased mother to meet once at least in her own life her little girl even though it's too late right now. Too late for a former mortal with its roaming spirit on the monumental world to accomplish one of her dearest miracles.

Even the rhapsodical moments which Casey and Judy maintained not only as a couple, but also as beatifically lucky parents of a two-year-old daughter and Margaret pelt her very first word on seventh month even commenced to wobble somewhat confidently, freely on almost second year of her fresh life were nothing parallel to the recent nightmare which was confronting headstrongly the young woman.

For a straight week or so, the couple wasn't getting along lately and they could find themselves having common scandals in the wee hours of midnight just when Margaret was profoundly asleep in her own crib. What it significantly unnerved the car washer was that he didn't earn as much attention and affection as his lover from their young girl who was getting bigger with each elapsing day.

For example, just after finishing his shift in the car wash and getting back at home, either the Bostonian was bathing their little ray of sunshine or on the contrary, laying her down to kip and chanting her a silver-tongued, serene lullaby, in order to find herself deeply, peacefully asleep without mewling series of piercing bewails at the top of her brittle, tiny lungs in the middle of the night, still haunted by every childish myth about the somberly morbid silhouettes in the pitch-black room and the monsters lurking in the darkest corners of the room. How about the sinister monsters yet hunkering beneath the bed?

Shortly after Margaret was laid down to kip in her bassinet in her own independent room, in the meanwhile, the juvenile lady was lathering the remaining dishes which she hasn't washed after dinner time, due to her preciously dedicated time spent with her daughter.

Thick coat of foam baptized up to her wrists, whereas the kitchen sink's faucet was turned on and allowing jet water splashing against the sink's grayish surface, drenching the map of blotched lather and drawing the last fleeting used plates, sheening luxurious glossiness shortly after being soaked to pieces lastly. The humdrum soundtrack of splashing water jingled indifferent tunes into the unwed mother's petite, vulnerable ears like an eerily broken record, playing on a loop in a desolated site and the sole alarming tones which she could ever listen to were the broken record's dull rhythm, the exiguous sentiments tinging and affecting even certain remarkable notes.

"For how long Margaret is asleep?" All of a sudden, the young gentleman emerged from the hall, his tall figure was donned in a navy blue bathrobe, guarding his skin against the late-October chilly climate that was pebbling his manhood and masculinely mauve nipples even his kinky, densely jet-black bodyhair.

"For an hour already." Barely turning to glance at the owner's huskily inebriated voice, affecting his Texas lilt maintained the transmuted paradoxally icy chills, prickling her epidermis with electrifying goosebumps and canting her spine. Vaguely prim smile perched upon her naturally roseate, cherub lips, reassuringly and optimistically cusping to persuade herself everything is going to be alright and hopefully there isn't another heated debate, managing it to be ongoing for a handful of hours with series of hostile shouts, fashioned in balled fists hands slamming furnitures and balefully bared teeth. As usually and refilling the car washer's hectic daily schedule as a responsible father of a two-year-old infant and attending regularly his workplace, he's taking a shower every night shortly after dinner.

"Good! I just took a shower and I tried to be as quick as possible to save hot water for you."

"That's so kind of ya, honey!" When the Bostonian drenched the last lathered eating tools and plates and set them warily on the dish drainer, subsequently she turned off the faucet and daubed her soaked hands, ushering her strawberry-coloured, wet tongue to moisten in twirl her upper and lower lip momentarily. "I just washed the dishes, because I didn't have the chance then."

The suddenness of the stretching silence with its thin elasticity almost tearing off when Casey managed to approach his girlfriend was unnerving Jude, whose seething bitter lump was sluggishly swallowed after stretching her throat muscles, darting her smoky quartz jewels, flaming coy insecurity what he's capable of in the impending moment and most of all, the prominence in its delivery of his unpredictability. Meantime, Casey manipulated his both muscly, strong arms to fold across his toned, muscly chest while landing his lapis lazuli cabochons on the petite-frame's porcelain, young-looking complexion with piercing, naked contempt, curling his pale-pinkish lips in a menaching, ambiguous pout, speaking emotions through its grained texture of its pout.

"Casey," Huskily jubilant giggle fell from her mouth, opting to abide as serenely radiant as possible in the most intensifying moment which was her second nature almost every night from the following week."For heaven sake, sweetheart, why ya have to be pouting for nothing like a dissatisfied little boy who didn't earn what he wants actually?"

"Margaret is always important to you as if she's your top priority and I can't even spend modicum of my limited time with her."

"Every child is every parent's priority and she's preciously important to us, Casey!" A heavy sigh unloaded Judy's ribcage while tucking a fistful of unruly gilded tresses behind her ear, being all ears while the stutter lurched backward and forward on her tongue. "And even when ya have enough time to be with her during the weekends, yar just minding your own business."

"That's bullshit! I'm always there for you and our little cherub angel." Even when the intoxicated timbre touched roughly the young man's southern lilt, his foul rotgut breath obnoxiously fanning and hardly brushing his lover's unblemished anhydrite facial skin.

"I didn't mean to be brash or anything, but," A sharp exhale jointed promptly while locking up her smoky quartz orbs with his lapis lazuli, curving her lips in a grotesque, antagonizing frown. In the meantime, Casey maneuvered to quirk an eyebrow quizzically, still questioning what the imminent intents are of the young woman's detective side that dazzled him right away. "Are ya actually tipsy?" All of a sudden, instead of managing a nod in agreement and reaffirming his girlfriend's words, he smacked a slap across her face as the pads of his fingers grazed her cheek, whereas he gritted his teeth menacingly, thus hissing ferociously aggressive. "Jesus! I just asked you a question and that's the answer I'm receiving from ya?" Crystalline translucent tears soused her watery, huge honey brown minerals, yet locking up her stare with his berserk ocean blue which narrowed at the humiliated, weak, small and vulnerable Jude. The frosty doldrum that was arching between the both adults mortified the Bostonian, chewing on her lower lip continuously after snapping her front ivory teeth. Manipulating her brittle fingertips to brush the crimson imprint of the slap, tattooed on her cheek, the Bostonian mewled series of desperate, arcane cooes stoicly. "Don't tell me ya have drunk again shitty rotgut that laced your breath with its crappy filthiness!"

"You really don't know what I'm capable of."

--- *** ---

--- 19 Years Later or So ---

--- 13th of September, 1963 ---

Just years later after Judy lose Margaret, factly, Casey sent Margaret in a foster family surreptitiously and returned back at home empty-handied due to his bloodthirsty vengeance, yearning for more attention from his girlfriend rather than prioritizing their daughter, the juvenile lady joined the church and taking solemnly her vows to escape the free lifestyle of strong liquor, one-night stands, infamous reputation and her somber haunting past of heartbreaks and grim memories. Even shortly before joining the church, she opted to research the orphanages and foster families for her biological daughter which was no longer residing the small city of Massachusetts and most of all, Judy didn't have enough money to afford for travelling in the other states to find Margaret.

Just a couple of years ago after encountering the young, ambitious Monsignor with two home lands in St. Andrew's church, subsequently the former licentious jazz nightclub singer developed potently platonic relationship with him not only as business partners, but also as friends.

At the moment, the middle-aged lady was seating on her hard wood bureau, transfixing her watery smoky quartz gemstones on the misty window and relishing the solicitude that granted her myriad of comfort and rest from the hectic daily schedule that fatigued every ounce of her being and numbed her tornado of thoughts. Her trembling dainty fingers delicately grasped a vintage Polaroid photograph of Margaret's last photo she's ever recollected from her when she's barely two-year-old infant with her shining, beaming smile glimmering past the camera, while being scooped in her secure, alabaster mother's arms and her father was by the nun's left side.

The wee days of the autumn were embraced by the weak, playful breezes and the daily heavy rains, recently slapping violently the shut window and the brick wall of the nefarious asylum's grandiose façade.

Suddenly the oakwood door scarcely notoriously squeaked while the British compatriot was stepping inside his friend's office, thus venturing to shut the door gently without an ado and tiptoeing up to her bureau even though he knew so far how the devotional woman of the cloth wasn't very fond of uninvited visitors without knocking on the door.

"T-Timothy," Even though she hesitantly didn't turn her back to face the owner's arcane presence that her instincts instantly detected with her mind tissues, a heavy, dry sigh disjointed her chest, lingering the twin fat heavy rain of silent tears, trickling down her well-sculptured cheeks, sensing how much her heart ached for her past's biggest regret. Not reaction rationally and right on time to get Margaret even staying away from her former fiancé who not only sent their biological daughter in a foster family, moreover infected her with the vicious syphilis, throughout ceasing her vibrant fertility. The old Polaroid photograph was irreparably blotched with semiopaque tears, staining the thin, fragile material. "Yar supposed to be at work or visit other places where the Cardinal has sent ya." In the interval, the younger man hunkered past her ducked head, squinting up his cocoa brown minerals at her glinting tear-stained, marbled complexion and witnessing her powerless side. His naturally baby-pinkish, plump lips parted in a vaguely glowing, sympathetic smile, inked on his facial features and surveying in the corner of his eye every manneristic body language, indicated in its motion of hers. "What on earth brings ya here?"

Instead of delivering the reply which her enquiry begged for immediately, her conservatively dark wool-rigid-clad sleeved forearm daubed the series of tears, beading her lower eyelids and cheeks, bleating a blatant sob that broke her facial expression and accidentally flumped forward as Timothy lifted her up in a bridal lift, fortunately, evading any sequence of an accident and wee bruises, tinting her flesh.

"What are you upset for, Jude?" The honey ramming his English lilt and the consoling nonchalance in his enquiry tingled angelic hymns into her ears, her heart rate instantaneously perkily increased and impacting the heart drums in her ribcage, narrowing her teary hazelish-brown orbs at his charming facial attributes, amorously illuminating like a widely opened curtain and enamoring her to be head over heels even more with his physique and in general identity. Meantime, her dainty pallish fingers steadily grasped the vintage family photo and her sobs quivered under her breath, managing to usher her throat muscles to pouch the bittersweet lump, bubbling up in her feminine Adam's apple.

"I did one of the most idiotic mistakes ever in my life."

"It's okay, Jude! It's okay to make mistakes." Drawing her close as she buried her tear-stained face into his chest and drenching his priest collar, she gnawed on the raw spot of the delicate skin of her lower plumpish lip frequently to stifle her uncontrollable, despondent sobs. "Shh, shh, shh, don't cry! I won't judge whatever mistake you've ever done." It was amidst the fewest times when the former promiscuous nightclub singer was opening fully in front of the aspiring Monsignor and leaking modicum of her grim past even her somber, unspeakable secrets along with showing her low-spirited side.

"My ex-fiancé stole my daughter on the day after when I was still deeply asleep and gave her to a foster family to look after her, because I was prioritizing her and he almost didn't spend any time with her."

"Every parent is prioritizing their children which perfectly norm-"

"Shortly before I became a nun, I was looking for her. In Boston and everywhere where I could, but she's no longer there. She was somewhere else and under the care of a different household." Series of stammers rolled out of her tongue after struggling sluggishly to construct anything rational and clearly explainable to her motive of her roar. In the interim, Timothy what he could do was warmly consoling his right hand and usher one of his hands to knead her upper back even bend down to capture her forehead in a tender, featherly-soft peck with his berry-coloured, silky lips.

Author's Note: If you have really enjoyed this one-shot, do not forget to leave a feedback and read your thoughts on it! I'd genuinely appreciate your double kindness!

Furthermore, what are your thoughts on my theory? I'd love to hear your opinions! :))